


Big Picture by silver_sun31

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They get the big picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Picture by silver_sun31

## Big Picture

by silver_sun31

Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. No money has been made from this story.

Thanks to Becky' Sentinel Site for episode transcripts.

Dead End on Blank Street

* * *

For all that Jim is observant to the tiniest detail, he misses the big picture. I mean, I haven't seen him all week. I suppose it shouldn't bother me, after all, he is reconnecting with an old friend. Still, the whole situation surrounding her, and her now dead husband, sends warning bells a ringing. There's just something not right with her, or the way she's got Jim wrapped up in her life and problems with barely batting an eyelash. I feel like she's using him, and he can't see it, or resist it, for being to close, even after I asked him to let it go after talking with Henry Lovejoy... The fact that I missed his presence, or that I've been doing all the shopping, eating, and TV watching by myself is just an afterthought. 

You see Jim gets kind of crazy with women. He loses all thought processes, warning signals, and the good sense that God gave him. Jim still hurts so much after the fact, because he's still in love, lust, or pity, whatever he calls it. Sometimes I feel he has a greater capacity to forgive and forget all wrongs, to be able to still feel deep emotions for a person after he's been two-timed, than I do. Not that I can talk too much, considering, but at least a part of me can hold back, the part that can harden against further betrayal. I bounce back quickly because I know after it all falls through, I'll have Jim. As long as that is constant I can pretty much function after another disaster that is my love life. 

But Jim's best defense, his senses, go 'offline' when it comes to that special woman, special (like in the head) being key here. He has a blind spot to any wrong in them, until the point where he's forced to see it. Piece after piece is beginning to add up to _Veronica,_ but Jim still persists in her defense. 

So, that's why I confront him, I tell myself, when I open the loft door, and spot him standing perfectly still, looking out the balcony window. Always the warrior, surveying his tribe's night activities. 

"Hey," I call out to him while I place the grocery bag on the counter. "Long time, no see." 

He turns and nods a little, before taking another glance out the window. Then he's striding over the counter and sifting through the grocery's. 

"I've been busy." 

"Any closer to who killed Archer?" I ask trying to get his mental juices flowing. I know he won't like where I'm going with this, but this time I feel like I have to say something. He knows something's not right deep inside, but I have to get him to acknowledge it. 

"No, we're nowhere. We got Lovejoy in Chicago. The feds have him. We can get him back, but I don't think that's going to serve anything." 

"Nah... Ever thought about looking closer to home?" I say with as much aplomb as I can. I know he'll see through it, but I want to try and break it to him gently. 

"What are you trying to say, Chief?" he asks, and his jaw is doing that twitching thing I know means 'back off.' But I'm not going to back off until I say what I'm going to say. 

"Well, uh, what was that that you always used to tell me? You know, "M.O.M." "Motive, Opportunity, Method." 

"I'm sure there's a point here." 

"My point is, $3 million and an abused wife -- Motive -- and she certainly had an opportunity." 

"So she goes and puts a bomb in his car?" 

"It's possible." 

"Maybe I need to clue you in -- Forensics said the explosive was D-13. That's a linear-shaped charge used in demolition. It takes a highly technical, precision knowledge to handle it, okay? Now, there goes your method." 

"She could have had help," I say mildly in hopes of hindering the biting of my head off. 

"I-I think you're the one who needs help. I'm going to bed. I'm tired." 

"I'm sorry I brought it up," I mumble as he trudges across the room and up the stairs. I see him stiffen infinitesimally, barely there, but I'm paying careful attention. I know he heard me, and feels bad to a degree, so he'll think about what I said tonight. It's all I can hope for. And I hope its enough to halt this spiraling slope downhill. We've done this ride one to many times already. 

* * *

I'm leaning forward slightly beside Simon in the interrogation room, when Jim leaves after Aldo finishes his little spiel. And that little spiel surprisingly sounds like it would fly. But at least it was a straight he said, she said, his word against hers. 

"Well, it's still her word against Jim's." 

"Doesn't matter. Because of what went down with the drugs, he's already under suspicion. People would always wonder if he was a bad cop," Simon says, blowing my hopes out of the water. 

I leave Simon and head for the elevator to find Jim. I happen to pass Aldo, as he's walking out, and he has a smirk on his face...Almost as if he's a cat that just got a bowl of cream. A jumbo size bowl of cream. I frown at that 'something's wrong' vibe I get, and bypass the elevator to run down the stairs to the garage. They say I get in trouble while I'm not supervised, but Jim's not too bad at finding trouble all on his own. 

And sure enough I get there in time to watch Veronica sashay to the door, a look of regret yet satisfaction on her face. 

"What was that?" I ask when I reach Jim. He has a look on his face that just makes me want to give him a hug. I think he finally hit bottom with this whole situation. 

"An apology, I guess," he says not looking to sure what train just hit him. 

"What are you going to do?" I ask quietly. 

"Start acting like a cop." I grin internally as I hop into the truck with Jim. Thank god, he's finally going to put his personal feelings aside now. I know its harsh, but now it her against him, and I'm every inch in his corner. And by the look of determination on his face, we're going to get somewhere. Fast. 

* * *

"Come on, Simon, you can't do this," I plead as I watch Jim's mask snap into place over the stunned expression he wore a minute ago. 

"I don't have a choice," Simon says with difficulty. 

I watch Jim place his gun and badge on the table with a twist to my heart. For his sake I hope we can resolve this mess soon. I don't allow myself to think that we won't be able to resolve it at all. 

I lope after his longer steps as we head for the elevator. We're silent until we reach the garage, and head for the truck. 

"So, what's next?" 

"Chemical building." 

"What about it?" 

"Well, if signatures were required to buy the explosives, maybe other safeguards were in place as well." 

"Right. Good." 

"Oh, Chief, um... I'm sorry. I was wrong about her. You were right." I almost stop in shock right there, but I manage to keep moving anyway. Jim probably saw my step stutter, but I can't say that I hear those words from him too often. 

"Well, that's all right. I mean, come on. We all make mistakes, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Well, got to admit it was a...good-sized mistake." 

"It was huge," I say with a grin, letting him know I'm joking with him. 

"All right. That's enough, all right?" He grins back, and I see that we're further down the road to getting past this thing. 

* * *

I'm attempting to do some research, but I can still hear him moving around up there. I want to go and get him to talk, but I know he'll reject the idea right now. It's too close, to raw with Veronica's death for him to except any comfort. I did manage to tell him how important he is to me, and that I'd always be there for him if he needed. I don't know if he was really paying any attention to me, so far gone in his thoughts, but at least I got it out before he headed up to bed. 

He told me what she said before she died after we got home. "If you loved me, you would have let me walk away." Words like that can run in an endless cycle in your head. And knowing Jim he'll feel guilty for a while, blaming himself for her death even if he did do the right thing. 

I could hate her for wasting her breath, that the last thing she had to say could be so selfish to a man who treated her with dignity, kindness, and love. 

I sigh, and take off my glasses to rub at my tired eyes. Leaning my head back on the couch, I cover my face with my hands. Hopefully the next couple of days he has off, he'll be able to work through the last couple of months. 

I shift, and arch slightly to work out the kinks in my back and neck, and sit upright. Just to almost jump out of my skin when I open my eyes and find Jim squatting in front of me. The shadow cast by the kitchen light makes his eyes look hollowed...haunted. 

I open my mouth to speak, but he silences me with a finger hovering above my lips, and tilts his head as if listening to something. I freeze, and wonder what he's listening to, when he smiles, and sits back on his heels. I smile back hesitantly, and reach up to pat his shoulder. His other hand comes up and grabs my own before I can remove it from his shoulder. He shakes his head and places his fingers against my lips momentarily, before briefly brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. 

"Thanks, Chief," he says with a whisper. I smile and say nothing. Now I know he heard and understood me. 

* * *

The days drift into weeks and Jim seems to be in top shape. In fact he's down right chipper instead of his usual no nonsense self. Bright smiles in the morning, enthusiastic greetings, and the strangest thing yet, he's taken to brushing my hair out of my face or tucking it behind my ear. I mean it isn't big or anything, but Jim generally doesn't touch my hair. 

It takes me a while but then I start notice other changes. If I get up late in the morning, there's usually a bagel with vegetable cream cheese, a cup of coffee, and my algae shake in the refrigerator. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but Jim refuses to go anywhere near my algae shakes, and all of a sudden he's making them for me? 

This makes me pay extra attention to Jim, and the little things become much more noticeable. He calls me during breaks to ask me if I'm alright, and how my day was so far. He leaves little notes to remind me of something I said offhand and he thought I might forget (which I usually do, so his reminders do come in handy). He's started up a tradition of picking up lunch and eating with me whether it's at the office, or at the station. If something's going down he calls me and briefly lets me know, or leaves a message when I'm not with him. 

I'm loving the attention I have to admit, and I try my best to have something going on for dinner before he gets home, or surprise him with a tidy loft. He just smiles appreciatively and brushes my hair back, but now with a little squeeze at the nape of my neck. A warm feeling settles in my chest, and I'm surprised at myself for getting all warm and sappy over a little approval, a smile, and an affectionate touch. But it's like that's all he needs to do to make me feel at peace. 

I finally get up the courage to mention the recent actions, though I'm terrified I'm going to spook him into stopping. I just have to know what's going through his head. So I plan, and go out shopping to get some steak and potatoes, a Greek salad, and a bottle of wine. When he gets home he does his usual grin and exaggerated inhaling while he hangs up his jacket, and throws the keys in the basket. 

"Smells great. What's the occasion? You want something, don't you?" he asks jokingly, coming over to stand behind me and sniffing around. I elbow him lightly in the side, keeping my eyes on the salad I'm dressing before looking up and pinning him with my best _who me?_ smile. 

"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to have something a little fatty tonight. It'll be ready in a minute so why don't you set the table. How was you day?" I ask while he grabs the plates and utensils. 

"Alright. On the way home Simon called me and told me about some punk on the street attacking young homeless kids, and hooking drugs in them with injections. He wants me to work on it when I get in, in the morning. You're coming to the station early tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah," I say as I serve out the food, and place the salad bowl on the table. He grabs two glasses and the wine to place them on the table. 

"How's the finals coming along?" 

"Everything's going good. I have one more day to put in extra hours, and I'll be back with you regular time." 

"Good." 

We're quiet while we eat, both introspective for a few minutes before I screw up my courage and get out what's on my mind. 

"So Jim. I couldn't help and notice some stuff you've been doing for me. I just want to say thanks, you know?" 

He looks at me behind his wine glass and smiles slowly. 

"So that's what this is all for, huh? Showing your appreciation?" he says before taking a swallow of wine and pushing his empty plate away. I blush slightly and shrug. 

"I just thought you might want some red meat for a change." 

"Thanks, Chief. I enjoyed it," he says, and then gets all intense and stares seriously into my eyes, leaning forward in his chair, "and I want to say that I appreciate _you._ I'm just sorry I haven't told you enough since now." 

I blink, a little dazed and slow to answer. 

"Thanks Jim." 

He grins and sits back letting out a light belch before moving to pick up the plates. The sound of his chair scraping the floor jolts me into moving to help him wash the dishes. 

I can't help but smile the rest of the evening, even if I didn't get a full answer, it was more than enough. _He_ appreciates _me._ A first from his lips to my ears. I feel like I'll be flying high on his words for a month. 

* * *

He's upped the ante from that night, and I don't know what to do. I don't think I've been this happy in a long time. I woke up this morning to a breakfast tray with a bowl of fruit with whipped cream, fresh fluffy pancakes, still warm, a glass of OJ, and a cup of coffee sitting on my stand. 

I feel satisfactorily full and pleased way into the day, before the hectic schedule started to catch up to me. But then, as if reading my mind, Jim calls and makes my day again. 

"Hey." 

"Hey, Jim." 

"How are you?" 

"I'm okay. Just finishing up my classes, and I was trying to make a dent in some of these tests, before my next one. How are you doing?" 

"Good, we finally got that perp I told you about." 

"That's great, Jim! I can't wait to get this schedule over with. I could be there helping you guys out instead of here, you know?" 

"Don't worry about it, Chief. Look I'm getting off around six tonight, you want to go out to dinner and a movie?" 

"Yeah! Sure. I could definitely use getting out some." His chuckle tingles in my ear and I find myself grinning at the pleasant sound. 

"Good. I'll pick you up at the loft about six-thirty. How about that new comedy that came out? Oh, and wear something nice, there's this new restaurant Joel recommended we can try out. He said something about healthy food for you, and plenty of fat for me to survive." I laugh a little and shake my head at his conquest to consume fat like it was in danger of disappearing off the face of the earth. 

"Okay. The movie's fine and I'll be ready when you get here. And, hey, thanks for asking me out man," I say. In the brief silence over the phone, I realize in just what way he could take that. 

"Hey no problem. That's what friends do. I'll see you in a few of hours." 

I find myself whistling and grinning for the rest of the day, enough so that one of my students asked who the lucky girl was on my way out. 

* * *

The minute I heard the door open and close and Jim call for me I hurriedly pulled my hair back in a ponytail. I knew I was running late, but I figured he had to dress too, and besides it had been surprisingly hard to figure out what to wear. I finally went with a deep blue jacket, over a light blue-gray cotton blend shirt, and some navy khakis. It was an outfit Jim had nodded at once when I went out with to a fancy restaurant with an old girlfriend. Funny, I don't think I was half as nervous as I am now. I debate for a second and decide to leave the top couple of buttons undone, and no tie. I run my hands over my hair, take a deep breath, and go meet Jim in the livingroom. 

He's staring out the balcony windows, already dressed in a black jacket and slacks, with a gray dress shirt and no tie. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I wasn't going to be underdressed. 

"You look good, Chief. Ready to go?" he asks giving my outfit a once over. I smile and blush slightly over the compliment. Last time it was more like, "that looks better than wearing flannel." I sigh to try and release all my irrational nervous energy and shrug. 

"Thanks, you too. I'm ready when you are, man. And that was the fastest change in the history of man." Jim laughed and shook his head while he grabbed our coats and the keys. 

"Nah. I left these over at work. I changed in the locker room." 

I nod and take my coat, throwing it on, as he pulls the door open for me. He bows, while waving me through and I roll my eyes good-naturedly at him. I'm still slightly nervous but Jim unknowingly calms me down when he starts chatting about some drunk at the station giving H and Ryf grief. 

We end up laughing and talking as usual all the way to the movies, and through dinner we joke about the movie. The soft candlelit atmosphere soothes the both of us after a trying week, and our waitress was great. Between the company and food, I felt like I can take on anything. I wonder why I was so nervous when the one person I can really let my guard down with, my best friend, is by my side. 

The drive back to the loft is companionably quiet, and I'm pretty content, so much so in fact, that I zonk out in the car. Warm breath, a deep voice in my ear, and a gentle hand massaging my neck wakes me up. 

"Come on, sleeping beauty. We're home." I ignore him, and lean back into the massage sighing happily into the bliss that is complete and utter jellification of my body. If only I could wake up with a massage like this every day. 

"If you come on, I'll see what I can do," Jim says with amusement coloring his voice. My eyes snap open when I realize I've spoken out loud. He pats my cheek and heads for the door. I scramble out the truck and jog to catch up with him at the elevator still wondering if he's serious about the massage thing all the way up to the loft. 

"Thanks for the evening Jim. I had a great time," I say as he makes his way to the steps. 

"Yeah me too, Chief, me too. Goodnight." 

"'Night," I whisper as I shut my bedroom door. 'Nah. He's pulling my leg...I think.' 

* * *

Heat, centered on my back, gliding over my shoulders, down my arms, and back up. I can't hold in a moan, and shudder as my back muscles are kneaded in rhythmic movements. Strong hands rub and knead as I try to make like pliable dough. Soon, too soon, the sweet pressure turns into soothing up and down motions, lighter and lighter until I can barely feel pressure, just heat emanating from his hands. I sigh in bliss just before Jim pats my shoulder and the source of heat in my side disappears as he stands. 

"Up and at 'em, Chief. We've got to be at the station by 10:00." I grunt something, hoping he'll come back and massage some more, but I can hear him whistling and moving around the kitchen. 

I lay there completely unable, unwilling, to move from this kind of content peace and relaxation that encompasses my body. 

"Sandburg! Shower. Breakfast. Station," Jim calls again and I groan as I try to roll out of bed without landing on the floor. Actually sitting up has become a skill I greatly admire, and with another sigh of defeat, I push my jellied muscles into helping me get out of bed. I can tell it's going to be a long morning already. All I want to do is jump back in bed and have my personal masseuse go at it again until I fall asleep. 

I get a semblance of order after I shower and shave, and I head to the kitchen for my cup of coffee. Jim puts a plate of eggs and a bagel in front of me, and I dutifully pick up my fork and eat. 

"Hey after work I figured we can have some pizza and watch some movies on TV. How about it?" 

I smile and nod as I shovel food into my mouth. We get out of there on time, and I sit and think the whole way to the station. What, exactly, did I do to deserve star treatment from Jim. I mean, he doesn't abuse me, but he doesn't usually cater to me either. I accidentally mention I'd like to wake up to a massage, and he actually does it?! I know I shouldn't complain, but _Jim_ massaged me awake this morning! And he takes me out to eat, and to the movies, and pays for everything the night before. And he calls me everyday when I'm at Rainer and asks me about my day. And he fixes and stores my morning drink, something he hates, for me. And he tells me he appreciates me, that I look good...It used to be I could barely get a "good work" out of him, or if my outfit matched right. 

I glance over at him, and see his jaw twitching, his hands tightly gripping the wheel. Uh, oh. I didn't let him know how much I enjoyed and appreciated what he did this morning did I? His jaw only clenches like that when he's upset about something that has to do with me. 

"Hey, Jim? Thanks for the massage. I feel like I actually got up on the right side of the bed." 

He glances at me and nods a little in response, but I see his hands relax and the jaw smooth out. I narrow my eyes, and turn to look out the window before he sees. If he knows what he's doing, can get upset if I don't acknowledge his efforts, where does that leave me? 

* * *

It comes to me in the station when Lindsay Lohans asks him out to dinner, that I haven't seen him on a date. For a long time. In fact, now that I think about it, since that whole thing with Veronica. I think about it some more and his actions begin making more sense. If he swore off women, that left him work, his buddies, and me. And it looked like he was making sure nothing was neglected. I watch him for a minute after Lindsay leaves and just throw it out there all casual like. 

"So man, what's up with you and Lindsay? Some of the guys around here would kill to get with a hottie like her." 

My mental arm pumps in triumph as I watch his jaw do the twitchy thing again, before he controls it and shrugs just as casual. 

"Nothing really. She's just not my type." 

"Man are you kidding! She's exactly your type. "Why don't you give her a go, I'm sure she'll accept if you go after her right now." I cringe mentally as Jim gives me the famous glare, but keep it calm, with a raised eyebrow. 

"I'm not interested." 

"I think you'd be interested a couple of months ago. Maybe like before Veronica," I push ruthlessly. I'm taking my life into my hands here, but he's been bottling this up for months. It's time to get it all out, in the open. _Game time,_ I think mentally preparing myself as storm clouds careen over his face. 

"It's none of your damn business, Sandburg! So back off!" he hisses, red-faced. I sit back in my chair and look down at my hands for a minute, letting him cool down. 

"I'm sorry man, I just thought you should talk about what's been going on since-well you know. I'm just worried, Jim," I plead softly so that he has to turn up his hearing. I hear him sigh and glance up when he stands. 

"We might as well get some lunch," he says as he tosses my jacket to me. I smile at his back as we leave and stay quiet on the matter until we're sitting in a deserted parking lot near the waterfront, with our lunch from the deli. 

Jim gets through half his sandwich before he starts talking. 

"Veronica was just kind of the straw that broke the camels back, you know? I'm just tired of it, Chief. Tired of having old flames, and new, betray me, or leave me unsatisfied. I'm not the type of guy to open up on a couple of dates, to tell my life story, to trust instantly. It's hard to get in a committed relationship when that's what they want." 

I study him, and reach over to rub his shoulder. "I totally understand man. But some bad experiences with a couple of women doesn't mean you have to give up on love man. Hey, you know my track record, I'm not really any good with the ladies myself, but I don't let it bring me down." 

"That's just it Sandburg, I don't want to keep trying. I'm tired of trying for something that's not going to work. You maybe, since you've got plenty of time to decide, to find that someone. I really can't see trusting anyone else with my senses, like I do you. You're as intimate as I want to go with this. You know what happened with Carolyn." 

"But you didn't know then, Jim! And if she can't handle you, then she wasn't the right one. I can't believe you're giving up on love, just like that!" 

"I'm not Chief. I-I've got you." My mouth drop open, and I can't help the flush of warmth that floods me with his words. It takes me a moment to recover, but then I squeeze the shoulder under my hand, and reach up to briefly brush his jaw. 

"I love you too, big guy, but you know what I mean." 

"Yeah, but I think-no, I know-what we have is enough for me. I get everything important from you Chief." 

I'm pretty knocked on a loop here, but his words bring a sorrow to my heart, makes me want to be everything for him. "Not everything, Jim," I say quietly. 

"Everything _important,_ Blair." I look into his eyes, earnest for me to understand, and I can't help the moisture that gathers in my eyes. I smile softly, and scoot over to give him a hug. 

"If you're sure, man," I whisper sentinel soft, "you know I'll be there for you." 

"I'm sure." We stay that way until break is over, and head back to the station. 

* * *

It's been a few weeks since our talk in the truck, and I'm glad we had it. The little things seem part of a much bigger picture than I could've imagined. I can't help but respond to the gaping hole in his heart, just overjoyed that I have the power to fill some of it up. 

I've taken to full body hugs when we get home, and in the mornings in greeting. I know it probably embarrasses him, but with Jim affection is my middle name, and I have lots to give. Especially since I know he needs it more than ever. I tend to think of each touch as a blow to the people he's been hurt by in his life. During the day there are plenty of headlocks, pats, smacks, and thumping, but I've added throwing an arm around his waist, and when sitting on the couch, rubbing his feet, or head, or back, whatever happens to be close by. He's woken me up a few more times with back rubs, and we still have the habit of calling each other, me just to tell him I miss his presence that day. I've made an extra effort to get up in the morning to share in making breakfast with him. 

And I can say its paying off. Jim is practically glowing. I don't think I've seen him this content in some time. I'm just glad that we can begin putting the worse behind us. If it takes me to make him happy, then I'm all for it. 

But then something else hits me one day, when I went for a walk to the park, and met a woman there. A nice woman, interested in pretty much one thing, but sweet in her countenance. I sit and flirt with her, while a niggling feeling in the back of my mind tries to wiggle to the front but gets squashed before it takes root. I haven't been with a woman in quite some time, pretty much shortly after Jim started the ritual. So I decide to go home with her. 

Ten minutes after we get to her house I'm scrambling for my clothes, all lust gone, like my erection when she put her hands on me, when I tried to be with her. All I can think about is what a mistake I've made. Jim and I don't just love each other. We're _in_ love. 

* * *

I lay in bed hearing Jim move around upstairs in his bed. I had gone home and pretty much locked myself in my room after a shower, with an irrational fear of Jim finding out. And I know he'll find out, his senses will tell him the moment he steps close to me, he'll smell her pheromones. I know because after a morning hug I noticed he had that intense look on his face. I asked him what he was paying attention to, and he turned to me with a sheepish expression, blushing slightly. 

"Just making sure you're okay." 

"Huh? What do you mean?" I ask in a slow moment. 

"I, uh, well, I scanyouwithmysenses," he said in a rush, and it took a moment for me to get what he said. It hit me like a rolling boulder. 

"You mean, like, you, you know, smell me?" 

"Uh, yeah. And I check your temperature, listen to your heartbeat, you know, just making sure you're okay," he said blushing brighter by the minute. I couldn't help it. A huge smile broke out over my face and I said the one thing that relaxed him in the face of his confession. 

"Cool!" 

That was the end of that, besides the occasional question about what he found, or did, after all I am curious. But now I wish that he hadn't scanned me so well. He must have known there was something different the moment he walked in, yet he didn't come to the door, or bother me besides asking me if I wanted anything to eat. 

I declined, my stomach still to queasy to do anything but sit there. I tried to tell myself that I did nothing wrong, that I'm not obligated to abstain, that Jim and I aren't married, but my heart cries out in sick pain over my actions. 

I really feel like I cheated on Jim. No, I know I almost cheated on Jim. Now that I've faced my feelings and found out what I should have known some time ago, I recognize the tingling, the warmth that floods my body in pleasure over something he's done for what it is. Love. Lust. Want. All repressed for the denial that is my memory of curvaceous bodies and pert breasts. I didn't know I desired something different, but maybe it's just that I desire someone different. 

I hear his bed squeak and footsteps down the stairs. As they come down the hall I wish he'll go to the bathroom, but its not to be. He stops in front of my door, and stands there for a moment before knocking gently. 

"Can I come in Chief?" 

I want to say no in fear, but _everything_ in me is saying _yes._ Come in as far as you can go-forever. 

"Sure," I whisper. He walks in and sits on the bed, close to my hip. 

"You alright?" 

I look up into his eyes, and instead of the anger, or disgust I think I'll see, all there is, is concern...and love. I can't stop the tears once they start and I surge up to wrap my arms around him. 

"Jimmm..." I moan as he holds me tight in his embrace. I bury my face in his neck and let loose the ache that sits like a lump in my stomach. And like the rock that he is, he comforts me, strokes my hair back and rocks us gently. 

"It's alright Blair. Shh. Whatever's wrong babe, it's alright. Shh," he says, and I can't help but to squeeze him in a death grip as my tears gentle in their flow. 

"I-I met a woman in the park," I say against his neck. 

He just continues to rock me, and smooth a hand down my back before sighing gently. 

"Let me guess. You slept with her and now you feel guilty." 

"Not all the way. I couldn't-felt horrible, wrong," I say and cling tighter, afraid that now he'll let go. But he doesn't. He tilts my face up and smiles sadly. 

"I'm so sorry, Chief. It's my fault. The way I've been treating you, like we're together, it's torn you up inside, confused you. Shh. Shh, its alright, let me finish, Blair," he tries to say, but I won't let him. Everything I've experienced with him has been a beautiful type of joy...An unconditional expression of love, that I won't let him slander. Won't let him place blame on that kind of love, on himself. 

" _No._ " 

"Blair, listen-" 

" _No!_ I love you. And nothing you say will ever change that," I whisper fiercely. "I know what's wrong now. Remember when you told me that I was everything important? Well you were right, I am. And so are you. We are everything to each other." 

"Blair..." he whispers staring into my eyes. "You don't know what you're saying. You have so much to experience, so much to go for, don't tie yourself down to me." 

I stare into his eyes, eyes of the clearest blue, inches from my own. I lean forward and kiss him gently on the lips. Pulling back, I study his face, and reach a hand up to trace his strong jaw, soft lips, and high cheekbones, up over his eyes to brush his temples, and over his forehead to slide through his hair. I link my fingers together and pull so his forehead is resting against mine. I kiss him again, oh so softly, and he's so tense, his hands digging into my hips. I smile at him and kiss my way to his ear. 

"Too late. I've fallen in love." 

He groans and bears us down on the mattress, his weight holding me, anchoring me to this moment. We look into each others eyes, his asking me to be sure, mine assuring him of my answer. 

"I'm sure. I love you," I say, just to make sure he can't mistake it in any way. 

" _God,_ Blair. Babe, I love you so much. I _love_ you so _damn_ much," he whispers harshly against my lips. I smile, and run my hands down his back to cup his ass. 

"Then show me." 

And he did. 

* * *

End Big Picture by silver_sun31: silver_sun31@yahoo.com

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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